


Stand Up

by onebizarrekai



Category: Witch's Heart (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Self-Indulgent, Spoilers for Wilardo's Scenario, Violence, Witch's Heart Spoilers, convenient mild canon divergence, fighting… but sensual, hello new hyperfixation, not written to be romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27530011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onebizarrekai/pseuds/onebizarrekai
Summary: A creative interpretation of the fight between Ashe and Wilardo.
Relationships: Wilardo Adler/Ashe Bradley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	Stand Up

**Author's Note:**

> and by creative interpretation I mainly mean it's just 10 times more sexually tense
> 
> honestly I have no idea how I feel about how this turned out, but this does, in fact, exist now

“Stand up.”

A storm of clouded emotions was seeping from the tone in Wilardo’s voice as the smell of blood filled the room. Ashe winced as the other man took hold of him by the hair, lifting his head up. He sucked in air, an urgent fear in his chest as the feeling of vulnerability and confusion only grew at the downfall of his plan.

“W…What are you?” Ashe asked, his fingers twitching. “How are you still alive? H-How–” He gritted his teeth, groaning softly as the fingers in his hair tightened and pulled his chin higher. Ashe felt his heart rate accelerate as his instincts further muddled his thoughts as Wilardo leaned closer, bringing them fully eye to eye.

“It’s going to take a _lot_ more than that for me to die,” Wilardo uttered.

Ashe’s trembling hand shot to his own pocket, producing his knife. He slashed in an instant, stumbling backwards as Wilardo released him. The shorter man seemed slightly inconvenienced, raising a hand to his cheek, which now had a long, bleeding cut on it. “M…Monster,” Ashe sputtered, finding his way to his feet and taking a step back. “You’re a monster.”

Wilardo sighed. “Because I’m the one who created an ambush after days of friendly demeanor… right?” he asked.

Ashe’s expression twisted in disgust as his grip on his knife tightened. “I wasn’t even aiming for you. Your _blood loss_ , I suppose.” He tensed up even further as Wilardo raised his gun again.

“And you were aiming for Claire, why?” Wilardo inquired.

“You don’t know why? You don’t know what she has?” Ashe questioned. He scoffed. “Tough luck.”

Wilardo’s finger curled around the trigger of his gun as a nagging feeling piqued in the back of his mind among the splitting yet numbing pain in his skull. “What do you mean by that, Ashe?” he asked, taking a step forward.

Ashe was trying to conceal the way that he flinched as Wilardo drew closer. “As if it matters to you.”

“I’m inclined, just a little, to think otherwise,” Wilardo told him, a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. Ashe took steps backwards, and all too soon, his back hit the wall, Wilardo not too far behind. “Come on. I’d rather not play the guessing game.”

“As if I’d tell you,” Ashe sneered. “How about you be a gentleman and just get out of my way? You’re making this so much harder than it needs to be.” Wilardo lowered his gun, but Ashe didn’t move, as the firearm was still pointed at his leg. Ashe swallowed, his skin crawling. “Or perhaps… put that away, and I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

Wilardo faltered for just a half second. Ashe immediately lunged, slashing at his arm, the other man hissing in pain for just long enough that Ashe could slip away from the wall. Wilardo ducked aside, anticipating the attack from another side and raising his gun to shoot, but what he didn’t expect was the full force of Ashe’s weight pushing him against the wall and holding the arm with the gun directly above his head. Ashe’s hot breath was heavy through his sick smile as he held his knife to Wilardo’s neck. Wilardo gritted his teeth, fidgeting under Ashe’s grip.

“It’s simple, really,” Ashe told him. “Even if I can’t kill you, I can still rupture your breathing and make you lose consciousness, now can’t I?”

Wilardo felt the cold blade on his throat and the way his body wanted to go stiff, an instinct that always persisted beyond the pain he’d been through. “Why are you wasting your time on me, Ashe?” he asked.

Ashe’s grin grew wider. “Really? So you don’t get in my way, of course. I’d like to have my wish granted, you see… No matter what it takes.”

Wilardo went still, his eyes going slightly wide. “So Claire…”

Ashe leaned forward suddenly, the knife threatening to break skin. Their noses were nearly touching. “Doesn’t matter to you at all, _dear Wilardo_.” His hand slid upwards, trying to take hold of the gun in Wilardo’s grip. “This is a liability.”

“Are you always this intimate during fights?” Wilardo asked, the faintest of smiles on his face.

Ashe narrowed his eyes, which Wilardo could tell had flickered down from contact with his own after his comment, if for only a split second. “I’d like to think this is an unusual situation,” Ashe replied.

Wilardo let out a small scoff, lifting a leg and kicking Ashe in the stomach with full force. The man with the braid lurched backwards, coughing up blood into his sleeve from earlier injury while Wilardo raised his gun to the other’s head. Ashe froze, still bent forward somewhat.

“… Ashe, I’m sure whatever your wish is, you have your reasons,” Wilardo told him. “However, you’re not the only one who wants their wish granted.”

“Are you going to kill me, Wilardo?” Ashe inquired. “I guess we have more in common than I thought.”

“You wish.”

Wilardo pointed the gun down, shooting Ashe in the ankle. The gunshot rang through the air, Ashe’s scream of pain accompanying it as he buckled to the ground.

Ashe’s subsequent psychotic laughter was not the way any normal person would react to being shot. “Horrible. Simply horrible!” he rasped as Wilardo walked past him. “You’re going to leave me here, Wilardo?! Is that what you want? You’re taking this chance away from me… like it’ll be so, so easy?”

Wilardo stopped near the entrance of the room, glancing over his shoulder at the other, who was trying to stand up and hissing in pain. “You shouldn’t walk on that,” Wilardo told him.

“I will _not_ … give up,” Ashe panted as he shambled towards the table in the room. He grabbed the edge, falling to one knee. “You treat this like it’s so simple… so easy… and it makes me _so mad_.” His inflections produced soft hisses like a snake. He cackled again. “Maybe that’s what I get for bringing a knife to a gunfight… quite literally.”

Ashe lost his grip on the table and collapsed back to the floor. He tried to stand up a second time, but the pain was settling in. The adrenaline was wearing off, and this hadn’t been the only time Wilardo had shot him. Ashe heaved breaths, trying to pull his weight forward wish his hands. Wilardo’s hand was on the doorknob.

“Wilardo… if you get your wish granted…” Ashe started, wiping the blood from his mouth, “… would you come back for me? After all… you’re the one who did this to me.”

“You really shouldn’t make requests of the guy whose head you tried to split open,” Wilardo told him.

An innocent smile crept up on Ashe’s cheeks again. “What matters is that it didn’t work.”

Wilardo looked away again, opening the door. “… Sure,” he drawled. “No promises.” The door shut, leaving Ashe alone as he quietly writhed, the persisting stench of blood surrounding him much like the infuriating reality that his failed plan had brought about.

 _No promises, of course,_ Wilardo thought.

After all, Ashe didn’t have the faintest clue what his wish really was.


End file.
